Dirty
by embracing-shadows
Summary: Ever unpredictable, it turns out that the way to get him was to get dirty.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!

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I huffed and crossed my arms, turning my head away in a slightly childish effort to ignore my best friend. He had been ribbing me for the entire drive over here and, while I knew that it was all in good fun, I was starting to get tired of it. Even I, the one with all the patience in the world, can get annoyed sometimes. When he had asked me earlier what I wanted to do today and I had hesitantly suggested we visit Greg he had assumed a sly look and immediately commenced teasing me. Warrick knew that I had a giant crush on our mutual coworker; it seemed as if everyone in the world knew but Greg himself.

When finally we pulled up in front of a familiar apartment building I was all too glad to rush out of the car. I tried to ignore my friend as he strolled along behind me, making comments and wearing a wide knowing smile. He seemed to find it much too amusing that on the one day I had this week to relax and do nothing, I chose to leave the house and seek out Greg. As if I didn't see him every other day at the lab anyway. I didn't find it nearly as amusing. Actually, I found myself inexplicably nervous, wondering how Greg would react to us randomly showing up on his doorstep. We had never done this before. When ever any of us got together it was always planned.

All the way up the stairs Warrick was wondering out loud what Greg might be doing at this very moment. His musing speculation at one point that Greg might be wandering around naked made me glare over my shoulder at him. The worst part of that was that it was feasible. It was a sinfully hot day, and that did sound suspiciously like something Greg would do. Finally I was able to make my bud shut up as we reached the door to the right apartment. When I raised my hand to knock I hesitated, worry creeping up in my belly, but when I heard a snicker I scowled and forced the hand to bang on the door three times. Then it dropped back to my side quickly as if it had been burned by the action. We waited, but silence greeted us and the door stayed closed. After a few minutes I knocked again, a little confused.

"Oh," came a voice from behind us, "are you looking for Greg?" Warrick and I turned at the same time and I swear I could almost sense him starting to drool. The woman standing before us would have been absolutely gorgeous, were I at all straight. She was thin and petite, and her chest was all but falling out of her tight yellow top. Her light brown hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of soft ringlets, framing her nicely shaped face. She was gazing at us with wide green eyes and smiling with thick pink lips. Warrick made a sound that was somewhere between a gurgle and a stutter, and I fought to resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. He was so typical male stereotype!

"Yes we are, do you know where he is?" I replied to the woman before us, seeing as Warrick seemed incapable of human speech. I hoped he knew that now I was going to be taking my turn to make fun of him; there would be no mercy. Miss Thin and Cute gave me a brilliant smile that did nothing for me and nodded happily. She appeared to be one of those women unaware of just what her presence was doing to any straight man within a mile radius. I hear that that's appealing. I wouldn't really know.

"Sunshine's downstairs," she announced cheerfully, and I recoiled from the pet name. "He's working out back." At this statement I furrowed my brow in bewilderment. Usually when I heard 'Greg' and 'work' in the same sentence I thought of evidence and rubber gloves, or sometimes I still thought of DNA samples. Surely he wasn't doing anything involving any of those things behind his apartment building? The woman that Warrick was openly ogling waved for us to follow her and turned to lead the way down the hall. Warrick stared at her butt as it swayed side to side, and I gave in to the eye-rolling urge. We followed her down a set of stairs opposite the ones we had taken to get up to this floor, and they took us right to the rear of the building.

We stepped out the back door together and in to an almost completely empty cement courtyard. The sun was bright, and I had to squint my eyes against the sudden onslaught as I looked around. The only thing that was anywhere in sight other than brick walls was a silver car with its hood standing open and various tools lying on the ground around it. We were standing just at the trunk, looking down at a pair of jean-clad legs, familiar red converse planted firmly on the ground. The rest of the body was hidden under the Camry, but I could guess who it was. The girl who had taken us out here skipped the two short steps closer and smiled, then giggled.

"Hey Greggles, thanks again for fixing my car for me!" she exclaimed. A familiar warm voice told her not to mention it, that he was happy to help. I smiled. It was just like Greg to spend his days off doing favors for other people. Although neither of us visitors had known that our friend knew his way around under the hood of a vehicle. It definitely gained him some brownie points in own heads, being car-loving men ourselves. Suddenly I saw the two red clad feet kick out at the air and I suppressed a laugh when I heard a muffled grunt of mild annoyance.

"Hey you want to give my feet a shove Toots?" I heard him ask. I couldn't help wincing again as the affectionate nickname fell from my crush's mouth casually. I was starting to wonder if maybe this was his girlfriend standing here next to me. The still nameless woman gave a small laugh of consent. She grabbed up the pair of converse, waited for Greg to lock his knees, and gave his heels a womanly little push. A moment later the sound of wheels rolling over the pavement met my ears as the board that Greg was lying on scooted across to the other end of the car. If he had weighed even the slightest bit more that never would have worked. I know; I had tried it before. I got stuck. But he was much skinnier than me.

Warrick and I looked at each other as we heard Greg get to his feet. He was still hidden behind the raised hood of the Camry, still unaware of the fact that we had come to see him. I heard him leaning in to the engine and the clink of some tool on one of the few metals parts in there. Most of the engine parts were made up of heavy plastic, except for in specialty engines. He was murmuring to himself as he sometimes did when he was really concentrating hard on something. I smiled, and I could almost picture the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. I found myself watching that tongue sometimes when we were out at crime scenes, fighting the urge to suck it in to my own mouth.

"Sunshine, you remember that guy from work you were telling me about?" the woman's voice broke in to my thoughts and I was instantly paying attention. She was probably about to tell him we were here, and I was curious to know who exactly he had been telling her about. Greg gave off a small affirmative noise.

"Which one?" he asked with a fun little laugh. "The one that makes me nervous, the one I think secretly hates me, or the one I have a crush on?" I dropped my jaw and held my breath. The _guy_ he had a crush on? I had had no idea that he would swing my way. My theory that this woman was his girlfriend effectively disproved, I found myself waiting with baited breath and praying with all my might that she chose the third one. Warrick was waiting with the same breathless intrigue. It must have been my lucky day that day, because she gave a loud golden laugh and cast a sly glance my way.

"The one that you have the huge crush on, the cute one," she clarified. Greg made an indignant squawk and I fought back a chortle.

"_Cute_?! He's hot, Toots. If you're going to say it, say it right. Nicholas Stokes is hot. Beyond all belief of the word." He suddenly popped his head out from behind the hood. His eyes were closed, his hair wet with sweat from working in the sun, and something dark was streaked across one cheek. He had the back of one hand placed dramatically against his forehead. "You got me heart racing just for the mention of his name!" he declared. Then he ducked back out of sight again without ever having noticed us and I heard Warrick choking on his own air. He was smirking hard. Maybe it was me I heard choking. Or both of us. "So what about Nick?" Miss Smug sent me a huge wink and I could tell she was doing this on purpose. She'd known who I was all along. Oh that sly devil slash angel woman.

"Um I just wanted you to tell me about him again," she replied all too innocently. "It's just so adorable the way you go on about him." Unfortunately for him, but very fortunately for me, he suspected nothing. The poor naïve guy. I heard a wistful and slightly lusty sigh emanate from his general direction.

"Oh you should see him Toots," he said. "I think this guy was created just to tease me. I swear every time he talks to me I can't hear a word he says. I'm too busy listening to his voice. It's smooth like…like…not chocolate, His eyes are chocolate. I get lost in them all the time. And his shoulders? Wow. Every time he wears a t-shirt, I don't know, it's like he's flaunting his arms just to torture me with something I can't have. What I wouldn't give to be wrapped up in those arms…" Another lustful sigh sounded and he suddenly walked fully in to my view. If my jaw hadn't already been dropped in shock, it definitely would have hit the ground now. He was looking down at the ground, a small smile playing on his lips, so for a moment I was able to take him in without his notice.

The jeans he wore were dirty and scruffy and hugged his form like a dream. He wore no shirt, something I hadn't ever seen before, and his chest was tanned a delicious golden brown. At the moment it was slick with sweat and streaked with dirt and oil. He was wiping his hands off with a dark rag, they also being covered in gunk. I'm sure that I was the one drooling now, and I really couldn't have cared less, because this was most definitely drool-worthy. His dirty sweaty face was drawn in to a wistful longing expression, and I was of the opinion that he had never looked hotter than he did right now, not in all the time I had known him. He looked all man - pure male – and I loved it.

"You think I'll ever let him go?" he asked out of nowhere, his voice dropping to a gentle wondering tone. "I mean, it's been _years_ now. Do you think I'll ever get over him?" He scuffed his shoe on the pavement, staring at the rag he was holding as if he were contemplating it very seriously. Maybe hoping it had some answers for him. His friend gave me a smile before she answered, turning her smile in his direction.

"I don't think you have to Sunshine," she said. He made a noise of confusion and finally looked up. His eyes immediately zeroed in on me, and I managed to close my mouth long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. He froze, staring at me blankly, unable to comprehend that quickly that I was there, and had heard everything he had just said. His lips parted slightly, although his jaw didn't drop down like mine had, and he made a small strangled sound. For the longest time the four of us just stood there in silence while Greg and I continued our staring contest.

Finally Greg closed his eyes and dropped his head backwards, sighing loudly. He balled the rag in his hands before tossing it forcefully to the ground. His gaze lifted to stare reproachfully at his friend before he shook his head and turned away, walking behind the hood again. Moments later I heard the sounds of him tinkering away at the engine. I smiled, knowing exactly what was going through his head. He had just spilled his feelings to the one he felt them about. He was probably thinking the way that I did most of the time, that there was no way I would feel the same way. Probably thought I was going to be offended. My silence might not have helped either.

Knowing he meant to just ignore us now and hope we went away quietly, I followed him around the Camry and peered behind the open hood. He was standing there with a wrench in one hand and both hands already covered in oil again. He was stubbornly refusing to look up and see who had followed him, so I used it to my advantage. I stepped right up behind him, effectively cutting us both out of view of the other two. A hand on his hip stopped all motion, but he didn't turn, and it made me smirk. Before he could do anything else I wrapped both arms around his waist and pressed my body up against his back, placing my chin on his right shoulder.

Greg's head whipped sideways to stare at me with heavy incredulity, but for the moment I didn't meet his gaze. I squeezed my arms tighter around his middle and smiled as I stared down in to the engine he had been working on. Right away I could spot what the problem had been and how well he had fixed it. It looked very nice, and I deliberately took my sweet ass time admiring it. He could do nothing but stare at me in wonder, his hands on the edge of the car, supporting his rather shocked weight. One of my thumbs was caressing the smooth skin just above the hem of his jeans and I could feel him trying to suppress a shiver. I also heard him swallowing hard.

"For me it was your eyes," I whispered, still not looking at him. "And your smile? Wow. It lights up whole rooms, you know. Sometimes when you're talking I stop hearing the words because I just like the way your voice jumps and skitters. It has so much color and depth it's like riding a roller coaster, just sitting there listening to you. And the way you walk is almost sensual; sometimes I think you do it on purpose. Just to tease me." I paused, and one of my hands skidded up his abs, caressing his dirty chest. "But oh…dear…god. Do you have any idea how hot you look right now?" I heard his sharp intake of breath.

Finally I turned my head and met his stare with a calm one of my own. He was well and thoroughly speechless, something I had never seen before. Instead of laughing, I let my smile grow bigger before leaning in and pressing my lips to his. So shocked was he that he didn't even kiss me back. A small chuckle from me brought him back to life and when I kissed him a second time he returned it with a barely audible moan, half of pleasure, half of disbelief. The way he kissed was like nothing I had ever experienced before. He had just the right amount of pressure, just the right mixture of give and take. I could have kissed him forever but he was pulling away much too soon and I didn't bother hiding my confusion. He went a very nice shade of pink.

"I'm all dirty," he explained, and it made me snigger. Of course Greg Sanders would worry about getting me dirty. I took one look at him, with a big black streak across his face and his hands all covered in engine guck, and grinned playfully. Then I nuzzled my face right in to the dirt on his. He gave off a shocked gasp, protesting with, "Nick!" I only laughed and rubbed my cheek on his. When I pulled away the streak was smeared all the way up the side of his temple, and I'm sure some of it had transferred on to me. He was looking at me like I was insane when two throats cleared themselves simultaneously from off to my right side.

Unabashed, I turned to look, my arms still wrapped tightly around Greg's waist. Warrick and that brunette woman were standing there looking amused. When they saw my face their eyes widened and they burst in to laughter. Well, at least it confirmed for me that I was no longer very clean. It was slightly ironic because I had made damn sure that I was spotless before leaving the house, wanting to make a good impression on Greg like always. Ever unpredictable, it turns out that the way to get him was to get dirty. Who knew? I looked back to Greg and saw him smiling at me fondly. When the two others calmed down enough, my crush cleared his throat.

"Um, this is Warrick and Nick, obviously. Guys this is my neighbor Tootsie." As soon as I heard the name I had to bury my face in his shoulder and try not to laugh. Warrick wasn't as lucky. He made a loud snort in his effort to hold it in and ended up failing miserably. Tootsie, however, didn't look at all offended. She sighed resignedly.

"My parents were hippies, what can I say," she said with a shrug. At least it explain why Greg kept calls her Toots. It wasn't a pet name or even a sexist slur; it was just a friendly form of her name. She probably insisted people call her that instead of the full title of Tootsie. As I thought of the name again I had to fight to keep the corner of my mouth from quirking in to a smirk. Warrick was having quite a difficult time trying to control his own face. Greg shook his head at the two of us, already accustomed to the odd name. Then he turned and locked eyes with me and we smiled at each other for a long moment that stretched out until the others noticed.

Tootsie made some lame sort of excuse about needing help with something in her apartment, but Warrick didn't seem to mind very much when she dragged him away by the arm. Greg and I stood there looking at each other a bit awkwardly before suddenly laughing at ourselves. Greg shut the hood and grabbed the rag off the ground, wiping his hands off again. He waved at me to follow him and led us both back up to his own apartment. When we had stepped inside and Greg had shut the door, we stared at each other again, wondering what to do.

"I think I should wash my hands," my young blonde murmured eventually. He was just turning to go do that when he finally caught noticed the look I was directing towards him. It was predatory, and definitely wicked. It seemed to give him pause, and made him smile a little. I stepped forward and gently pressed him up against the dark colored walls.

"Baby, I love it when you're dirty," I whispered as huskily as I could manage, and Greg shivered violently. What happened from then on is not fit to be repeated to children.


End file.
